


Piece of Advice

by Wikiaddicted723



Series: A Slow Death Would Be Kinder [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Adults In Relationships Behaving Like Adults, And His Sex-Ed Reflects That, Comedy, F/M, Peter Parker is A Product of The Public School System In The US
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 11:56:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8101504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wikiaddicted723/pseuds/Wikiaddicted723
Summary: Peter Parker is a growing boy with a sudden need for advice on sensitive matters, and who better to help him than the Designated Avengers Mom Friend, known in most professional circles as the Winter Soldier.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anomalocaris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anomalocaris/gifts).


    
    
     FADE IN:
    
    
    
                   INT. AVENGERS LOUNGE, STARK TOWER - NIGHT
    
                   Wide on a typical Tony Stark party, BUSTLING WITH ACTIVITY,
                   filled with all the booze, food, and hangers on your regular
                   richer-than-God son of a bitch could want. People mingle and
                   shift from one group to the other, each talking over the
                   MUSIC with the kind of privacy that only a loud ambience can
                   provide.
    
                   Up on the spiralling mezzanine we see a lonely figure leaning
                   against the lacquered top of a piano, staring into the city
                   lights out the window. Say hello to BUCKY BARNES, an unfinished
                   bourbon and three empty shot-glasses atop the piano beside
                   him, each with varying degrees of red lipstick smears along
                   the rim. 
    
                   A figure approaches him. This is PETER PARKER making a
                   calculated entrance, two beer bottles in hand. Something is
                   clearly weighing on his mind, his trepidation apparent. 
    
                                       PETER
                             Mr. Barnes? 
    
                                       BUCKY
                             Y'know, the man's been dead about
                             sixty years now, but I still look
                             to see if my Da's around when
                             people call me that. It's Bucky,
                             kid. Or just Barnes if you prefer
                             that.
    
                                       PETER
                             Right. Sorry. Uh, I—Uh, I kind of
                             had a question--questions--I wanted
                             to ask? It's kind of...okay, no,
                             it's embarrassing.
    
                   Peter gestures with one of the beer bottles, clearly
                   intending for Bucky to take one. Bucky does take it. He sets
                   it on the table besides him, and proceeds to ignore it. 
    
                                       BUCKY
                             Lucky for you, I'm good at
                             embarrassing. 
    
                   Peter laughs, JITTERY AS FUCK, fiddling with the edges of his
                   sleeves over the slim, barely visible shapes of his WEB
                   SHOOTERS.
    
                                       BUCKY (CONT'D)
                             So ask.
    
                                       PETER
                                 (extremely fast)
                             I had sex with my girlfriend and I
                             think I did something wrong?
    
                   Bucky finishes the bourbon all in one go, sets the glass
                   down. The expression on his face lets us know he is
                   definitely not getting paid enough for this shit.
    
                                       BUCKY
                             Oh, boy. And I'm the one getting
                             this instead of Stark because...?
    
                                       PETER
                             The first time I met Mr. Stark I
                             found him flirting with my aunt. My
                             aunt who raised me. My aunt who
                             picked my clothes for me until I
                             was twelve. He was invading her
                             personal space and complimenting
                             her terrible cooking. Very smooth.
                             Very, very, very ew. And, uh, you
                             sleep with the Black Widow and she
                             seems pretty happy? Yeah.
    
                                       BUCKY
                             That...is not terrible logic,
                             actually. Maybe don't repeat the
                             last part where someone can hear
                             you though.  
    
                   They both chuckle a little awkwardly. Bucky-and-Natasha is
                   kind of an open secret as far as the Avengers are concerned.
    
                                       PETER
                             Yeah. So, I uh, yeah. My
                             girlfriend. Sex. Weird. 
    
                                       BUCKY
                             Right.
                             (beat) 
                             So what's the problem?
    
                                       PETER
                             I don't...think she enjoyed it?
                             Y'know, there were
                             no...fireworks...for her?
    
                                       BUCKY
                             You mean she didn't come.
    
                                       PETER
                             Um. Yeah, I—that.
    
                                       BUCKY
                             Okay, piece of advice number one:
                             if you're old enough to do it,
                             you're more than old enough to call
                             it what it is. Euphemisms are only
                             your friend if the general area's
                             PG-13, or you want to make someone
                             laugh.
    
                                       PETER
                             Got it.
    
                                       BUCKY
                             So how do you know she didn't?
    
                   Peter BLUSHES as red as his super-suit.
    
                                       BUCKY (CONT'D)
                             For the love of God, don't fucking
                             say it didn't look like it does in
                             porn.
    
                                       PETER
                             It, uh, it didn't look like
                             anything. She looked like she was
                             just sort of...enduring it, I
                             guess? To make me happy? And that's
                             really fucked up and I should've
                             done something about it but I
                             just—I didn't really get to
                             thinking till the next morning,
                             after she went home...
    
                                       BUCKY
                             She sleep there?
    
                                       PETER
                             Yeah. 
    
                                       BUCKY
                             Rushed the exit?
    
                                       PETER
                             Nah. Stopped to drink the Starbucks
                             I brought back with me.
    
                                       BUCKY
                             You talk to her since?
    
                                       PETER
                             Texted her?
    
                                       BUCKY
                             Sure. No face-to-face though?
    
                                       PETER
                             No, I've been here. She's preparing
                             for an audition.
    
                                       BUCKY
                             Well, she probably doesn't hate
                             you, so that's a good start.
    
                                       PETER
                                 (earnestly)
                             Ha. Yeah. Probably. So...how do I
                             fix it?
    
                                       BUCKY
                             Easy. Talk to her about it.
    
                                       PETER
                             What, like...asking?
    
                                       BUCKY
                             Exactly like that. Best way to know
                             if you're fucking up and how, in my
                             experience. Takes a bit of guts and
                             a threshold for awkwardness, but
                             dude, you dress up in a onesie and
                             swing from an elastic string
                             between buildings high enough that
                             missing your landings won't even
                             injure you so much as it'll make
                             you sidewalk decoration. If you can
                             do that without thinking twice
                             about it, you can ask your
                             girlfriend how she likes to be
                             fucked.
    
                   Peter CONTINUES BLUSHING, but he nods enthusiastically, like
                   someone who's finally fucking got the answer, someone who's
                   shouting EUREKA! and running around like a headless chicken
                   in the back of their minds...for all of five seconds before
                   he deflates into awkwardness again.
    
                                       PETER
                             Okay. Yeah. Yeah, I—what if...what
                             if she doesn't know?
    
                   On Bucky's face: ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?
    
                                       BUCKY
                             You like science, right?
    
                                       PETER
                             Yeah.
    
                                       BUCKY
                             There you go. Scientific method's
                             all you gotta know. Also? It gets a
                             lot less awkward once you learn to
                             appreciate how fucking silly you're
                             gonna look at any given time. Trust
                             me on that one.
    
                                       PETER
                             Right. Thanks. Seriously, I—I
                             really appreciate it.
    
                                       BUCKY
                             Parker, finish your fucking beer,
                             ask your girlfriend if you can go
                             over and chat, and get yourself on
                             a fucking cab.
    
                                       PETER
                             Sir, yes, sir.
    
                                       BUCKY
                             Fuck off, spider-brat.
    
                                       PETER
                             Sir, yes——
    
                   Bucky smacks him, and rolls his eyes.
    
    
    
                   INT. NATASHA'S BEDROOM, STARK TOWER - NIGHT
    
                   The bedroom is spacious, if a little sparse. Tastefully
                   decorated. In true Stark fashion, one wall is all window. The
                   streetlights below illuminate the ceiling. Tonight, the floor
                   is covered in a collection of clothes spread around like
                   someone ransacked the place. A bedside lamp turns on,
                   revealing Bucky and NATASHA ROMANOFF, both naked under the
                   sheets, in the middle of sleepy pillow-talk. She looks at
                   him, incredulous.
    
                                       NATASHA
                             You're kidding me.
    
                                       BUCKY
                             Nope. That was his exact wording.
    
                                       NATASHA
                             That kid's spent way too much time
                             around Stark. 
    
                                       BUCKY
                             Mhm. Had enough braincells to rub
                             together and ask someone else about
                             it though. Could be worse.
    
                                       NATASHA
                             To be honest I'm not sure Stark
                             would be terrible at sex advice. No
                             illegitimate children or STDs in
                             about thirty years of
                             fucking around with anything
                             vaguely woman-like is probably
                             qualification enough. And then you
                             add that to Pepper's continued
                             presence and...
    
                                       BUCKY
                             True. Thing is, I'm pretty sure he
                             was probably thinking more along
                             the lines of "someone who won't
                             hold this conversation over my head
                             forever" when he chose who to ask.
                             And honey, you're scarier than
                             Potts. 
    
                                       NATASHA
                             That's because you've never seen
                             her threaten to destroy you with
                             every legal means available to man.
                             (beat)
                             Or jealous.
    
                                       BUCKY
                             Fair enough.
    
                                       NATASHA
                             So what did you tell him to do?
    
                                       BUCKY
                             To go talk to the girl about it.
                             This is apparently a mind-blowing
                             piece of advice.
    
                                       NATASHA
                             A good one though.
    
                                       BUCKY
                             Glad you think so.
    
                   A beat. Topic seems to be over. It's been a long night.
    
                                       NATASHA
                             Do me a favor?
    
                                       BUCKY
                             Does it involve moving?
    
                                       NATASHA
                             Unfortunately, yes. 
    
                   Bucky raises his eyebrows and looks expectant—the visual
                   equivalent of "name it and I'll give it."
    
                                       NATASHA (CONT'D)
                             Get me something to drink that
                             isn't alcohol?
    
                                       BUCKY
                             But I like it here.
    
                                       NATASHA
                             You'll like it a lot more without
                             being on the business end of my
                             splitting headache in the morning,
                             I promise.
    
                   She kisses him. Bucky pulls back, frowning, and starts
                   getting up and grabbing for his underwear.
    
                                       BUCKY
                             You do taste like a distillery.
    
                                       NATASHA
                             That's very sweet.
    
                   Bucky exits the room.
    
                                       BUCKY (O.S.)
                             I'm a sweet guy.
    
                   SILENCE. We stay with Natasha, now alone in the bed. She
                   stretches under the covers and reaches over to the bedside
                   table for an elastic to tie her hair back. Lies back down and
                   stares at the ceiling, breathing. Waiting. She smiles to
                   herself and shakes her head as if to say "this fucking guy."
    
                   Cut to:
    
                   Bucky coming back, still half in the shadows of the
                   threshold. He pauses to look at her for a bit, glass full of
                   orange juice in hand. Eventually, he approaches. He sets the
                   glass on the bedside table.
    
                                       BUCKY (CONT'D)
                             Your wish.
    
                                       NATASHA
                             Thank you.
    
                                       BUCKY
                             So. Would you like me to eat you
                             out now?
    
                                       NATASHA
                                 (laughing)
                             Never let it be said you don't
                             practice what you preach. Knock
                             yourself out.  
    
      
    
    CUT TO BLACK.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not actually sorry.


End file.
